There was a moment in my life when giving up would’ve been easier. After enduring years in an emotionally abusive marriage, I found myself a single mother of five boys—no job, no college degree, no real safety net. The weight of starting over felt paralyzing and the unknown was gut wrenching to say the least. But instead of giving up, I made a promise. I would fight for a better future, not just for me, but for my children. That’s the moment I stepped into leadership—not the kind with a title or applause, but the kind that shows up every single day, whether anyone notices or not. Leadership, for me, began with choosing growth over survival. I enrolled in college while working and raising five kids on my own. I faced constant challenges—financial strain, sleep deprivation, self-doubt—but I refused to quit. I wanted my children to see that resilience isn’t just something you’re born with. It’s something you build, one hard decision at a time. I wanted them to see that their mother didn’t settle, so they’d grow up believing they didn’t have to either. Along the way, I found strength I didn’t know I had. I got involved in my community, joining the HEARD Coalition as a Youth Outreach Advocate. I worked with teens to spread drug awareness and promote healthy decision-making. These young people weren’t just “at-risk”—they were often overlooked and underestimated I listened to their stories, shared mine, and reminded them that change was possible no matter where they started. I wasn’t just doing community service—I was leading by example. I was someone who had been through the fire and came back with something to give. What I’ve learned is that real leadership has nothing to do with perfection. It’s about showing up when you’re scared. It’s about standing for something when it would be easier to stay quiet. It’s about taking your own pain and turning it into purpose. And it’s about being the kind of person others can count on—even when your own life is a complete mess. Now, I’m pursuing my degree in Criminal Justice at Purdue Global, with plans to earn a Master’s in Homeland Security. I want to serve in law enforcement and eventually join a federal agency-not just to enforce the law, but to lead with compassion and credibility. I know what it feels like to be trapped, silenced, and counted out. And I know how powerful it is when someone finally sees your potential. I want to be that person for someone else. There are still hard days—days where I feel overwhelmed, stretched thin, or unsure of what’s next. But every time I’m tempted to give up, I look at my children. I look at the girls I spoke to during advocacy events. I look at the version of me who almost didn’t make it. And I keep going. I didn’t get here by taking the easy road. I got here by leading through the hard ones. And I plan to keep leading, wherever this path takes me.

Hope didn’t always feel accessible to me. As a single mother of five, rebuilding after an abusive marriage, most of my energy was focused on survival. But being part of a community—that changed my whole life. Specifically, my involvement with the HEARD Coalition gave me more than a sense of purpose. It reminded me that change is possible, not just in our personal lives, but in the lives of others in our community. From 2020 to 2024, I served as a Youth Outreach Advocate for HEARD, helping spread drug awareness to teens in my city and surrounding towns. At first, I joined to give back. I knew firsthand how addiction could tear families apart, and I wanted to be part of the solution. But what I didn’t expect was how much of an impact it would have on myself. Every school I spoke at, every teen who was brave enough shared their story, reminded me why I fight so hard for the life I’m building—not just for my kids, but for the generation behind them. I wasn’t just passing out flyers or reciting statistics. I was helping plant seeds of resilience. I was looking young people in the eye and telling them they mattered—sometimes before anyone else ever had. One of the most unforgettable moments was when a student approached me after a presentation and said, “Thank you for talking to us like we’re real people.” It reminded me that the connection we make through community—through advocacy, honesty, and simply showing up—is what keeps hope alive. This experience has shaped how I see my future. I’m now pursuing my degree in Criminal Justice at Purdue Global, with plans to earn a Master’s in Homeland Security. I want to work in law enforcement not just to enforce laws, but to build trust, to protect vulnerable communities like mine, and to give young people a reason to believe their lives can take a better turn. My time with HEARD showed me that creating lasting change takes more than rules or policy—it takes heart, consistency, and empathy. It takes listening when others don't, showing up when others won’t, and standing strong even when your own world is shaking. That’s what I did during those years of advocacy, and it’s what I’ll carry with me into my future as a peace officer. Being part of the HEARD Coalition taught me that resilience is contagious. When we show up for others, we remind ourselves we’re not alone. That’s the kind of energy I carry into everything I do—into school, into parenting, and into every application like this one. I don’t just hope for a better future anymore. I know it’s possible—because I’ve seen it happen, one conversation at a time. And now I’m committed to being the kind of leader who helps create it, not just for my children, but for every young person still searching for a way forward.